Savage Ruler: A Dark Italian - Irish Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Sinfully Savage)

by Kristen Luciani

  I pad across the foyer of my townhouse and pull open the front door to find my youngest brother Roman dangling a white paper bag in front of me. He walks inside and hands me a coffee cup.

  “What the hell happened to you?” he asks when he sees the black wrap holding my wrist in place. “Things get a little too kinky at the club?” He snickers, dropping the bag on the granite countertop in my kitchen.

  I roll my eyes and reach inside for a bagel. “You’re a real smart ass, you know that?”

  “It’s one of my more endearing qualities, what can I say?” He smirks at me and gives me a punch in the shoulder…the one opposite my busted wrist. “So, why don’t you tell me how fucking around with Heaven Mulligan is gonna help our cause at that meeting tonight?”

  I take a bite of the bagel and chew for a minute before answering.

  “I didn’t realize you had X-ray vision,” I grumble.

  “Well, much as I’d like to convince you that I really am Superman, I saw you go up to her in that room…what’s it called? The Shadow Room?”

  “Room of Shadows,” I grunt.

  He shrugs. “Whatever. Anyway, I know what goes on in there. Hell, I’ve had it going on in there plenty of times myself. Always a fun fucking time.” With a snicker, he takes a huge bite of his bagel. ”Mnowwhuhnoodid.”

  “English, for Christ’s sake!”

  He wipes the crumbs from his lips. “I said, I know what you did. You fucking dog! Nailing the princess!”

  “She’s not a princess. She’s an underboss.”

  “Call her whatever the hell you want, she’s still a hot piece of ass. And soon to be your wifey.” He gives me an expectant look. “But I thought that was the whole reason for this meeting with the Mulligans, to announce your engagement.” He lets out a chuckle. “So why’d they show up at the club last night?”

  I collapse onto the counter stool, running my good hand through my sleep-tousled hair. “To get a look at what we do. She thinks the meeting is to discuss a business partnership.”

  “And now she knows you’re the great Matteo Villani, crown prince of the orgy.” Roman snickers. “I think that needs to go on your business card. Really make it clear what skills you bring to the table, ya know?”

  I pull the lid off of my coffee before taking a sip. It’s total crap, of course. But none of the places here in the city can make a cup of coffee the way they do back home.

  Home.

  A pang assaults my chest as the hot liquid slides down my throat and heats my belly.

  Not that anything will ever be the same in Sicily, for me or my family.

  I made sure of that.

  A fact that haunts me every single day and most nights.

  And yet, I fell right into the same goddamn trap again last night with Heaven.

  I lost myself, the exact same thing I warned her against doing.

  It’s what brought me to my knees.

  Literally and figuratively.

  I can’t seem to escape my own fate and yet, here I am, about to drag someone else into my downward spiral because it’s the only way I can grasp the power that seems to keep slipping through my fingers.

  Nobody understands my struggle, nobody knows my truth.

  It’s best this way.

  They all see me as a ruthless deviant with no regard for emotion. I may as well play the part and take what I’m owed.

  I always have my hand out and someone always pays a debt.

  But this time, I want more than just money for my services.

  Most people come with wads of cash.

  The Mulligans have something…someone…else who can make me a whole lot more than any amount of money.

  Pretty soon, I will rule all of Manhattan under the guise of protection.

  How ironic that the people who pay for that protection don’t realize they need it more from me than any of their known enemies.

  They never realize that the most dangerous ones are those who lurk in dark places, waiting patiently before they launch their attack.

  And the attack always comes because their eyes are never open wide enough to thwart it.

  It’s always about self-preservation for them.

  For me, it’s about conquering the world, something I will never stop trying to do because it’s the only thing that can redeem me.

  I need to be all-powerful, otherwise I’m doomed to suffer the same loss.

  “And?” Roman asks with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Did she like what she saw?”

  I take another sip of the coffee and my mouth twists. “Let’s just say there’s a very fine line between love and hate, and there’s no middle ground for ‘like.’”

  “Uh-huh. It was that good.”

  Oh, hell yeah, it was. And that fact kept me up all night, tossing, turning, and obsessing about when I can take that sweet pussy into my mouth again. With a little bit of luck, it won’t be long, potential for injury aside.

  She’ll need to be convinced that I am the right choice, which is why this meeting is so important.

  I can’t see Heaven Mulligan giving in easily to any directive, much less one that puts her dipshit brother Conor in the driver’s seat. That won’t go over well at all.

  Fortunately, I have a plan to crash that car.

  Fuck, I have a plan to incinerate the whole damn thing if I play my cards right.

  I’m not only the crown prince of orgies.

  I also build empires on the side, and I’m currently architecting one that will span the entire Eastern seaboard of the United States, city by city.

  Manhattan is my first stop and damn, there’s a lot of ego on this island.

  Fortunately for me, the egos are so bloated that they block all common sense from penetrating. That’s good for me since my job is to suck out all of the common sense and pave the way for the egos to battle it out in the ring while I collect my prize.

  And the only winner in this scenario is me.

  “Do you think her father is convinced that you’re the right guy for the job?”

  I lift an eyebrow. “He knows he’s royally fucked. I didn’t have to do much convincing.”

  Roman munches the rest of his bagel and I study his profile. He’s a good kid. Smart, hardworking, and loyal to a fault. He always gets the job done, no matter what it is. And he doesn’t question shit, unlike my other brothers Dante and Sergio. I swear, sometimes I’d rather deal with my enemies than handle their messes.

  “You know what you’re putting on the line by getting involved with the Mulligans, don’t you?” he mumbles, licking a streak of butter off his lips.

  “Yeah.” I know all too well, and if I make one single mistake and trust the wrong person, it won’t just be me who gets fucked.

  “It can blow up all over us, Matty.” He looks at me, his eyebrows knotted. “And you know I’m not afraid of going into battle, but there’s a lot of risk with this whole plan of yours.”

  I sigh. “I know. But it’s the only way.”

  Roman nods. “I’ve got you, bro. Tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll make the arrangements.”

  I tap my fingertips against the smooth granite, staring at the black specks in the stone. “I’ll text you the location as soon as I get it. But you can’t be part of it. You can’t be seen, you got that? I want you to get Alfie and Philly for the job instead. I don’t trust anyone else.” I look up at my brother. “And, Romo, one more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  I stretch my lips into a tight line. “Nobody gets killed.”

  Chapter Six

  Heaven

  My feet pound the pavement as I round a turn along the East River Greenway, my heart thumping in my chest as I push harder and harder to keep my lead over Patrick. I make this run every day, and this morning, I convinced my brother to come with me. I figured he’d give me a much-needed distraction. And after my night with Matteo Villani and his masterful yet demonic mouth, I decided that I needed a different kind of release before seeing him
again.

  Tonight.

  The thought of seeing him again, in the flesh, makes my skin prickle under my moisture-wicking gear.

  And, Jesus, did I see him plenty in my dreams last night.

  I still can’t believe that I let myself get caught in his lewd net, that I gave up complete control to that man, a money-driven thug who wants to lay claim to all of the hard work we’ve done here in the city.

  Business partnership, my ass.

  I’ve read about Villani. I know exactly what he’s all about.

  He’s more hostile takeover than friendly business arrangement.

  There is absolutely no way I’m going to let my father sign away any part of our legacy to that fucknut. I’m sure Conor is on board because let’s face it, all fucknuts band together. It’s like they can sniff each other out, sensing the scum on each other and realizing they’re one and the same.

  Kindred spirits or what the hell ever.

  I’m definitely not one of them.

  “Heaven,” Patrick pants from a few feet behind me. “Slow down!”

  “Come on, don’t be such a pussy!” I call out with a snicker, barely breaking a sweat at this point. “Do I have to carry you every time we do this? Your stamina is shit!”

  “That’s…because…I’d rather…lift…weights,” he rasps, picking up the pace and joining me along the path. I know it’s only temporary, though. He’ll fall back and end up collapsing on a bench soon enough. “I don’t understand why…you like torturing me…this way,” he huffs. “I’ve been a good brother to you, yeah? Why the fuck…do you wanna kill me off? I’m too young to…die.”

  I laugh and give him a little punch in the arm. “You’re being a baby. Running is good for you. Burns off the booze, gets the blood flowing, clears your mind.”

  “I screw plenty of chicks. That burns off booze and gets the blood flowing, too. I’m good with cardio as long as it’s the kind where getting off is an added benefit.”

  “You’re such a pig!” I squeal, slowing my pace slightly so Patrick doesn’t pass out right here in the middle of the path. “I’m just trying to keep you healthy!”

  “Seems like the exact opposite,” he grumbles. “Just saying.”

  I take in a deep breath, realizing that our run has come to a screeching halt. I can either accept it or leave my brother sprawled in the middle of this path because judging by the pinched look on his face, he’s not going to last another thirty seconds. I slow to a jog as Patrick collapses against the black, wrought-iron railing overlooking the river. He slumps over the railing with an exaggerated breath, resting his upper body on it as sweat drizzles down the sides of his face.

  I stand next to him, staring at the sun glittering atop the rippled water. My shoulders sag as I lean into the railing. “It’s so peaceful out here,” I muse.

  “As opposed to?”

  I roll my eyes. “Everywhere else in this city.”

  “And yet, you still wanna be boss.” He shakes his head. “You really think you’re gonna change things, Heaven?”

  “I’m going to try,” I say, twisting my ponytail around my fingers. “If Dad leaves things up to Conor, he’ll run our family into the ground and nobody will be safe.”

  “Yeah, but remember, not even Dad could deliver on that,” Patrick murmurs. “We still lost a lot that he couldn’t prevent.”

  A pang assaults my heart.

  Am I really any better than Conor? Than Dad?

  I mean, look at what I let happen to my cousin, Molly. She was the sister I never had but always wanted.

  I could have protected her.

  I should have protected her.

  But I didn’t.

  And that knowledge has been slowly choking me to death ever since that fateful night.

  I press my fingertips to my temples to chase away the toxic memories bubbling into my conscious, memories I try so hard to keep buried along with the guilt and the rage.

  I completely failed in my attempt to stop the horrors that will haunt me for a lifetime. I watched Molly get taken. I let it happen.

  That Heaven Mulligan was weak, scared, and riddled with self-doubt.

  She dreamed big but faltered whenever opportunity was presented.

  That Heaven Mulligan was erased alongside her cousin.

  And this new version has been trying to rebuild herself ever since.

  I take a deep breath. “All I know is that it’s time for a change. Conor has been pulling shit for too long, making enemies on every damn street corner, for Christ’s sake. I don’t understand what Dad is waiting for, why he doesn’t just pull the plug and stick Conor in another role where he can’t constantly put us in the line of fire.”

  “You know why,” Patrick says. “He’s the oldest.”

  “Yeah, and the dumbest,” I grumble.

  “Well, last night wasn’t exactly your brightest move, was it?” He nudges me and chuckles. “Admit it, you both have that same hotheaded temper. Maybe instead of constantly undermining and outplaying each other, you come together and use your super-dipshit powers for the greater good.”

  I smack his arm. “You’re a real dick, Patty.”

  He shrugs. “I’m just happy to be alive after you almost killed me with that brutal run.”

  I let my body melt onto the railing, twisting my face toward the hot sun. “I think I’m just in a twist over this Villani meeting. I don’t think it’s a good idea to invite anyone’s grubby hands into our cookie jar, and I know I’m going to be the only one who sees it as a bad thing.”

  “Look, Heaven,” Patrick says. “You’re smart. Smarter than all of us. You know what this family needs to thrive, and Conor knows it, too. He’s threatened by you. Always has been. So this time, don’t give him the upper hand. Keep your shit together and grab Dad’s ear when you’re alone. He’ll listen to you.”

  “I’m always fighting an uphill battle with Conor. It’s bullshit that Dad keeps him close just because he’s a guy.”

  “Dad’s old school. But if he was set on Conor, he wouldn’t have you on his other shoulder, would he?”

  “I hope not,” I grumble. “Because I’ve worked too damn hard to get edged out by our dear brother.”

  “Then play the game the right way this time.” Patrick winks at me. “Show them all that you’re the best one for the job.”

  I smile. “Thanks, Patty.” When I’m declared boss, Patty is going to be my second-in-command.

  Conor will be lucky if I let him tend bar at one of our pubs.

  He shrugs. “You don’t have to thank me. Just don’t drag my ass on any more of these fucking ‘jogs’, okay?”

  “Deal.” I loop my arm through his and we start walking down a path through the trees where Patty parked his H2. I still have no idea why he insists on driving that tank here in Manhattan, but he loves it and refuses to get something even a little more eco-friendly.

  It guzzles gas faster than a dog laps its water on a hot summer day, but something about it is so Patty. Maybe it’s the obnoxious yellow color, the way it stands out and screams, I’m fucking here to play!

  I see it in the distance, just beyond an overpass. It shines bright like the sun and equally hurts my eyes when I stare at it for a second too long.

  We’re silent as we walk, and I take the time to process Patty’s words. He’s right. An all-out war with my brother would be counterproductive when we have a new associate to deal with. I went into that townhouse last night just to find dirt on Villani so I could one-up my brother and show my father, yet again, that he needs to listen to my recommendations.

  That didn’t work out as I’d planned.

  I need to keep my eyes on the prize and forget about the past.

  I can’t change it. I can only make sure it never happens again.

  Sometimes I think I do shit like storming the Villani lair to prove myself to me more than my family. Those insecurities irking me are hard to eradicate, and I hate myself for being such an approval-seeker. />
  Conor doesn’t give a damn about getting anyone’s approval. He just acts with no remorse or regret. And control? Hell, he has none. That’s why he’s on the hit list of so many of our enemies.

  And still my father keeps him at the ready.

  All because he’s got a dick to swing around.

  Yeah, old school definitely equates to sexist.

  Whatever. I’ll be the trailblazer!

  I rub a hand over my stomach as it rumbles. “I’m starving! How does a bacon, egg, and cheese on a big, fat everything bagel sound?”

  Patrick chuckles. “Jesus, it’s a good thing you run as much as you do or else that appetite of yours would turn you into a candidate for My 600-Lb Life.”

  I laugh, reaching up to pull open the door of the truck when a set of squealing tires and a loud ass motor come roaring around a bend. The scent of burning rubber attacks my nostrils as the car takes a hard left and crashes into the back left fender.

  The car practically ricochets off the Hummer, probably the one benefit to having the truck. I fly backward, the impact launching me at the hard ground. My shoulder slams into a rock and I groan, clutching it to alleviate the sharp pain shooting down my arm.

  “Patty!” I yell, crawling around the front of the truck. “What the hell is—?”

  But the words freeze on my lips as I see two big beefy guys jump out of their car and pummel my brother. They leap at him, launching their fists against his face, his chest, his back.

  Patrick struggles against them, putting up a hard fight, but it’s hard to recover when you’re completely blindsided.

  “Heaven, get my gun!” he shouts.

  “Someone help us!” I shriek at the top of my lungs. Why the fuck am I not carrying a weapon? Haven’t I learned anything?

  Tears sting my eyes. I struggle to my feet, blood rushing between my ears. I wince, fighting the pain as I pull open the door. “Please, help!” I yell again, knowing that in this area, it’ll be too late before help finds us.

  Alive, that is.

  I climb into the truck, slithering over the seat and reaching into the console for Patrick’s gun. I grasp it, pulling it out without even checking the clip.